The Armorer 68. The Vow-Breaker (Patreon)

I tiredly stared at the angry-looking professors, switching to my Astral sight. They all looked exactly the same to me for some reason, like Intelligence maxers, without any other soul threads in them. Were they somehow shielded by these damn alcoves? 

I momentarily regretted not scanning the Alchemist deeper while he stood next to me as I was too focused on the herb evaluation. The longer I stared at the eight people around me, the more fake and hollow they started to look in my Still-Walker sight. It was beginning to get on my nerves.

My chest started to ache from the unnerving uncertainty and growing stress. Grogtilda’s body craved the sap. My hand moved down to my belt and I took a big swig of the stuff from my flask. My hands stopped trembling as the pain and panic subsided replaced with relaxing calmness.

I had to win this. Had to get into Nemendias!

“I propose that I can permanently break a Vow,” I announced, silencing the growing murmurs of disapproval.

“What?” Instructor Wert sputtered. He was too shocked by my declaration to be angry at me. He stared at the green-glowing dias beneath my feet. “That… that’s… you gotta be shitting me.”

“That’s a very… big declaration. We shall require a demonstration,” the Dean said, tiredly glancing at the ginger professor.

“I have a maid in my employ bound by a Vow,” Agatha spoke. “I can bring her in immediately.”

“Do it,” the Dean nodded.

She banged her sphere and a small door opened in the side of the room. Agatha nodded and rushed into it, returning with Arouetta and a very complex magitek device that she rolled ahead of herself on a small cart.

“Stand in the center of the dais please,” Agatha commanded the maid.

The Vow-bound servant stepped next to me.

Agatha manipulated the various levers, switches and crystals on the magitek device. A mechanical arm extended into the air projecting a hologram-like flicker into the air.

“As you can see, this maid is bound by a Vow to serve me,” Agatha said. “She cannot deny my orders. Arouetta, stand on one foot.”

The maid stood on one foot.

“We can observe her nine-year old Vow using the Astralscope,” Agatha said.

The Astralscope highlighted the hideous, abominable Vow hovering above the maid. Agatha focused the machine on the mind of the flickering phantom.

“That’s… my angel?” Arouetta whispered. “Why does she look like a jellyfish?”

Everyone ignored the maid, staring at the exposed Vow.

“According to the 9th law of Goppershmid Wampf nothing can unbind a Vow because it is forged with divine magic tethered to the soul,” Agatha announced. “Vows are permanent, indestructible Astral constructs. They can be observed as long as a person is alive.”

“Indeed,” the Dean said. “Vows do not exist in the physical. Our magic cannot touch them. They can be pushed a bit off to the side with extremely powerful shields, but not damaged.”

“Shall I proceed?” I asked the gathered Instructors. “This could be… dangerous.”

“Go ahead,” the Dean nodded. “Nemendias will protect us.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, looking around. "Will you all take responsibility for what happens after? Baroness Amadea might get irate with you."

“Do it!” The Dean said. “Amadea can bind this servant again. I want to see you prove your claim!”

The Intelligence maxing Dean of Nemendias was greedy for new knowledge. She wanted to see impossible magic, wanted to observe if an angel could be destroyed.

Arouetta looked confused and scared. She had no idea why she was here, being observed by these Nemendias Instructors.

“Very well,” I said.

I stepped close to the maid.

“I’m sorry to hurt you Ari. It must be done. They ordered me to do it,” I whispered into her ear.

“What?” She blinked at me, looking confused.

“Arouetta, multiply a number by itself…” I began my chain of orders intended to occupy and light up the Vow’s mind.

I repeated the same procedure as I had with Voltara. The Vow’s mind was highlighted for me and for everyone present in the room by the Astralscope. It was a lot easier to target the ghostly abomination when a powerful magitek tool highlighted it for me.

Arouetta twitched as she sang, counted numbers and recalled names, spinning her arms.

I grabbed Endy from her sheath and leapt into the air with a growl, stabbing the knife deep into the Vow’s mind. The destruction of the Vow was visible very clearly thanks to the Astralscope. The brain of the ghostly jellyfish imploded on itself, detonating into cascading, flickering sparks.

Arouetta fell onto the marble floor with a wretched, inhuman wail as the divine-threads of the Vow lost control of her. I absorbed the raining sparks with my hands, enjoying the extra uptick in experience.

The room was silent. Shocked faces stared at my victory over the divine, Astral manifestation.

“W-what? I’m sorry… Mistress. I seem to have lost my focus,” the maid got up after a minute, rubbing her side.

“Arouetta - multiply one thousand sixty nine by four thousand eighty seven!” Agatha ordered.

“I… I cannot,” Arouetta whispered. “I’m sorry, Mistress… my Angel won’t help me! I cannot do it! She’s asleep! She won’t tell me the answer!"

"Are you satisfied?" I spoke to the professors.

"Yes," the Dean nodded. Sounds of affirmation came from a few other Instructors.

Agatha took the distraught maid by the arm and led her out of the room. I looked up in triumph. Shocked faces stared at me.

“Well?” I asked.

“That was truly exceptional magic,” the Dean said, looking very serious. “Known magical laws will have to be rewritten, re-examined if you publish your findings. You are truly worthy of these halls. I vote for Grogtilda Lic Misem to join Nemendias.”

“My vote remains against,” the Historymancer said, her hands trembling.

"Are her letters of recommendation in order?" the red-eyed Stellaris asked the Dean.

"They are," Octavia nodded.

"I wish to interview the Felicity Cicesore, the Authority and the Expert!" The Historymancer grasped at the last remaining straw.

"With pleasure," I nodded. "They are waiting outside these doors.”

"I shall fetch them," Agatha departed through the little door, returning with Lambert and Antoine in tow.

The Inspector and the Artificer bowed to the eight Dragons, introducing themselves. Lambert’s sharp eyes examined the Administrators and Instructors as he stood on the slowly rotating dais next to me. I felt at ease in his presence.

"Inspector Lambert," the voice of Stellaris was clear, sharp and commanding, like that of an old army sergeant. “Why did you recommend this… lowborn candidate to Nemendias? Surely a less noble institution could provide her an education that would be just as acceptable, without as many… foreseeable issues.”

“Yes,” Ninna nodded rapidly. “She does not belong here!”

“I am well aware that there are other Arcanariums in our Empire, having studied Scrutimancy in one myself. However, I believe that she must go to Nemendias,” Lambert said firmly. “Madame, why are you so insistent on her not attending this place?”

“Inspector! How can you not understand basic social interaction?!” Ninna’s hands gripped the stone balustrade. “Nemendias is full of children of the aristocracy! She will likely end up a friendless outcast, rejected and bullied by everyone here! I would not wish such a cruel fate on any child!”

Ah, so that was her angle. And here I hoped that she actually knew my mother or something.

“Are you afraid of being a pariah, Grogtilda?” Lambert looked down at me.

“I am not,” I shook my head. “I will make friends regardless of my social standing. I take it as a challenge. I’m not afraid of bullies.”

“A challenge?” Ninna choked. “They will…”

“They will do nothing,” Lambert said. “Anyone who will dare to bully Grogtilda in public will have to deal with me.”

“How are you going to protect her while she’s in Nemendias?” The Historymancer demanded.

“I just got employed here as a Security Officer,” Lambert said.

“Oh,” Ninna’s face sank, looking despondent. “Why?”

“Because I care for Grogtilda,” Lambert said. “She reminds me of my late daughter, a diver that I lost to the Dungeon. If her social status is that much of a problem I am willing… to adopt her so that she takes my last name. She’s incredibly talented and skilled and I believe that the Empire will benefit from having her growing up with the future generation of leaders and movers.”

“Skilled?! She is thirteen!” The ginger professor yelled from his alcove. “She cannot be allowed to attend Nemendias!”

“Can you cut down a Vow, professor?” Lambert asked, staring at Wert.

“N-no,” the Instructor shook his head.

“Can any of you cut down a Vow?” Lambert’s voice resonated through the room as the dais spun us around. “Are you so foolish as to let a genuine Vow-breaker go elsewhere? Go on, admit it - tell me exactly why you would have some other Arcanarium take the credit for her future publication that rewrites a major law of magic!”

Silence was his answer.

“I thought so,” Lambert said. “This girl is a treasure. I am certain that she will rewrite the laws of magic in the future. I have spent enough time with her to tell you this - my Scrutimancy skills allow me to calculate the future without using precognition. I believe that she MUST attend Nemendias!”

“I wish to interview the Expert,” Ninna said.

Lambert’s gaze pierced her. Ninna visibly flinched from the fire in his eyes.

“Ask me anything, esteemed professors,” Antoine bowed.

“W-why do you think t-this applicant is worthy of Nemendias?” The Historymancer uttered, tripping over her own words. 

She really didn’t want me to attend this school for some reason.

I glanced up at Antoine. He wasn’t wearing his magitek goggles as he didn’t want to trigger any of the school’s wards. During our flight to Nemendias I confessed to him that I had two bodies, that I was a single soul shared between Juni and Grogtilda.

“I will not repeat what the Inspector already stated,” Antoine said. “Grogtilda possesses a few rare magical talents, sure… but that’s completely irrelevant to an expert… Artificer like me.”

The artificer made a deep pause.

“Any child can take down a Dragon with the armacus and a redirected Repulsor beam,” Antoine explained. “What really matters to me and why she truly belongs in Nemendias are her mundane skills.”

“Mundane skills?” the Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Mundane skills in the field of… people management,” Antoine nodded. “This lowborn girl is able to bring talented people and artifacts together. Honestly, give her a few years and half of Nemendias will be at her call.”

“Absurd nonsense!” Instructor Wert spat. "Who in their right mind would follow a lowborn criminal?!"

The red, ring-like, shimmering eyes of the Stromancer dug into me.

“I heard enough. I wish to interview the Felicity Cicesore,” she said.

The dais beneath us spun so that Agatha and I faced the Offensive Magic Instructor head-on.

“Why did you bring this little, sickly-looking, lowborn child, Agatha?” Stellaris asked. “Tell me the absolute truth - why do you wish me to break her?”

“You won’t be able to break her, Instructor,” Agatha replied simply. “She stands above me.”

The truth-defining hexagram beneath Agatha ignited with a green detonation of a dying galactic constellation.

“Hum,” Stellaris rubbed her chin. “Can you tell me how exactly a thirteen-year-old debitor stands above you, a princess of the house of Amadea, the girl who has the best grades and is engaged to the crown Prince of our Empire?”

“I cannot,” Agatha said firmly. “If you wish to learn why she is my superior, you can ask her yourself once she is accepted into Nemendias.”

The red eyes of the Stromancer ignited with curiosity.

“I vote… for this candidate,” she smiled viciously. If her crooked, predatory grin was anything to go by, it didn’t bode well for me. “I will enjoy… breaking this one and figuring out this curious conundrum even if I won’t remember these words.”

“My vote stands for the candidate,” the Keeper declared.

“A-against,” Ninna said, trembling. She looked around the room. She knew that she was losing. Her eyes desperately stared at the alcove next to hers. 

“Vote against her, please!” her lips spoke without making a sound.

“I am Elora Jill Petra, the Instructor of Floramancy… and I vote against the candidate,” a redhead girl spoke, the dim alcove where Ninna was staring at suddenly lighting up.

“My vote is unchanged. I vote against and I recommend you all do the same,” the irritating, ginger professor ground out.

“Abstaining,” the Probabilitymancer uttered, still looking completely lost.

“For,” the gold-masked Alchemist said.

I slowly rotated around the room, memorizing each of my future enemies and potential friends. I saw that the green crystal arrays visible in the Astral were glowing above everyone who had voted for me while red ones glowed above those that voted against me. Four greens, three reds, one white for the professor who couldn't make up his mind.

“The Vote is done. By the power granted to me by Nemendias…” the Dean’s voice boomed across the room. “I pronounce Grogtilda Lic Misem a novitiate of our esteemed Arcanarium. Work hard and reach for wisdom and power! We shall see you at the Orientation. From this point forth Nemendias will know you as her pupil!”

Another hexagram formation flashed beneath me, magic resonating, pulsating in the deep. A thousand invisible hands brushed against my soul, reaching out from the floor and the hexagon-covered magitek device hanging above me.

“Nemendias has memorized your soul,” the Dean declared. “You are permitted to enter her halls, to go below this tower or to enter through the front gates. This interview is thus concluded!”

She struck the stone sphere on her lectern one last time.

Brilliant, magical rays flashed towards the instructors from the crystal lanterns hanging above them. Was this some sort of a memory-erasing spell, the same one that Agatha had used on Arouetta six days ago?

No. The rays were not a spell I recognized. They pulled magic away from the instructors!

The rays struck the Dean, the Keeper and the six Instructors and they shattered before my eyes like mirrors, falling apart into glittering shards.

I stared at the empty alcoves in bewilderment. The Dragons were never real - they looked and acted like people… but they were not. They were perfect duplicates of the real teachers and administrators that ruled this place, woven by incredible magic of the Tower of Evaluation!

It was Nemendias itself that we had defeated today, Nemendias that wore perfect copies of eight souls akin to finger puppets!

"What the shit?" I glared at Agatha. "Why didn't you warn me that they weren’t real?!"

"It is tradition. You passed the first test," she said simply. "Congratulations! Students that never ask for the mind-erasing spell never discover that the instructors don't actually do these interviews themselves."

"Oh," I blinked. “Why this charade? Why the magic duplicates? I don’t get it.”

"One hundred and seventeen years ago, a sneaky Instructor tried to cheat the mind-erasing by writing a note to herself and went to publish a spell that was used by a student during the interview," Agatha said. "Thus, the Mage-Duplication Engine was created. A copy made in this tower belongs to Nemendias alone, it cannot pass a secret to the original, cannot avoid its deconstruction at the conclusion of this interview. This tower is physically separated, barred, shielded from the rest of Nemendias during the interview while the copies exist."

"What if someone were to leave a recording device?" I asked.

"It would get sucked dry and become inert. Any hexagram left behind falls apart. From what I was told, when the interview room is closed, all magic within it is drained as the new duplicates are made." Agatha said simply. "Besides, the ward of Nemendias is the most powerful and complex defense system in Illatius. This Arcanarium is a six-thousand-year-old institution and generations upon generation of mages added their power and intelligence to improve her wards."

"I see," I mulled. 

Was Nemendias as clever as Dawn? Was she alive? Did she have an avatar I could speak to? Could she be convinced to join my cause? I would have to find out!

The magitek engine above me fell silent, the room dimming. The double, metal doors opened, releasing us.

I pondered over what had transpired as Agatha led me back to the tower's rooftop.

The teachers of Nemendias had never met me and thus they would not remember me, but I would remember them.

I was now a single step ahead of these oddball, somewhat kind, rude or completely hostile Instructors. I was now aware of their personalities and knew what they wanted to see from me. I knew what was coming and had to develop a plan to prepare for each and every one of them.

Nemendias... my new home waited for me and I would open all of her secret doors, explore every hidden nook and passageway, find every library and bathroom and janitor’s closet. The six-thousand-year-old school and all of her veins, all of the hidden tunnels beneath her were going to be my new playground.

I would enjoy discovering her ancient secrets and making her mine with all of the twenty-first century tools in my arsenal as an urbexer!